ORM [Silent.]
THORFINN. Poor wretch! It is you who put shackles on me when I want to fly! Like a snake you coil yourself around my legs. Let go of me!
ORM. We have sworn the oath of foster-brothers.
THORFINN. I break it!
ORM. You cannot.
THORFINN. Then I'll kick you out of the way.
ORM. That will be our death.
THORFINN. Are you a man, Orm?
ORM. I've become a poet only.
THORFINN. Therefore you have become nothing.